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A humorous re-write of the fairy story. Piggies and wolf fight against each other with the inevitable ending. Piggies win of course!

Pinky the pig raced through the woods, ears pinned back in fear. Wolf gained another stride nearer, amber eyes gleaming at his juicy prey. Leaves flew up in the air behind Pinky’s flailing trotters. Wolf snapped at the pig’s smart designer jeans, tearing off a piece of denim. A deep growl rumbled in his throat as he spat out the material in anger.

Further up the track his brothers Perky and Pepsi, crouched behind a tree. They huddled together eyes wide in fright, as they waited for Pinky to escape. Wolf tripped over a large branch on the path. Paws in the air he crashed into a heap on the ground.

Squeals of glee echoed around the woods. Pinky joined his brothers and they scampered off together down the track and disappeared into the gloom.

Wolf lay spread-eagled on the ground, big black ears flopped over his eyes. He gasped, with sides heaving as saliva dripped from his big yellow teeth.

‘Time is running out little pigs,’ he muttered, standing up and shaking leaves from his furry coat. He slunk off to his lair to make plans.

The little pigs stood in a clearing and hugged each other. They separated and went off to their little houses. Pinky shut the door of his straw house. He was a very lazy pig. Snuggled down on the sofa, he became engrossed in a game on his mobile phone.

Perky pulled on his wellingtons and opened the squeaky back door of his little wooden house. Out in the garden he pushed the wheelbarrow, with a tray of plants down the side of the house to the front garden. Trowel grasped in his trotter, he lifted plants from the barrow and began to plant them amongst the rich soil in the window boxes.

He whistled merrily as he worked. A little robin flew down and landed on the window sill. With his sharp beak, he snatched a beetle from the soil in the window box.

Half an hour later, Perky stood back to admire his flowers. Soil gathered in wet patches on his trousers. His tummy rumbled loudly, it was time for a snack. He pushed the wheelbarrow back to the shed in the back garden, and disappeared inside the house.

Pepsi had finished building his brick house. The red front door with a shiny brass knocker shone in the sunlight. Wolf could not possibly blow down his sturdy little house. The strong roof and thick brick walls would last forever.

Next morning the three pigs gathered at Perky’s house. They were going down to the village to get some shopping. Perky wheeled out his smart red motor bike from the shed. Pinky climbed up on the pillion seat, and clung to Perky’s coat. Pepsi climbed into the side car, squeezing his fat little body onto the seat, and pulled on a pair of goggles.

‘I look like a fighter pilot,’ he yelled.

Perky started the engine. The motor bike roared off down the track in the woods, scattering two squirrels foraging in the long grass.

‘There go the three little pigs,’ growled Cyril, jumping to his feet to dust down his grey coat. Sydney gazed down the leafy track and frowned, shaking a leaf off his bright button nose.

Wolf peeped from behind a tree to watch, as the pigs disappeared into the distance. He crept out onto the track, long black tail curled over his back. He trotted up to Pinky’s house. Pieces of straw littered the path from the carefully constructed roof.

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